


the art of scraping by

by cacowhistle



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: a little bit of identity exploration, no editing we die like men, sort of a character study/headcanon recount of her life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 12:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18738922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cacowhistle/pseuds/cacowhistle
Summary: Smalls is six years old when she first finds herself alone.





	the art of scraping by

Smalls is six years old when she first finds herself alone.

Her parents leave that morning to go to work and don't come back. She waits patiently, plays with her sticks and dirt that she snuck into the house, wonders how long they're going to take - until strange people come to her house and pick her up and tell her it's okay, Mom and Dad won't be back because there was an accident, but you'll be okay.

Smalls is six years old when she enters her first orphanage.

It's cramped, and smells, and there isn't always enough food to go around. As one of the youngest, she usually gets some, but during the winter she's there, there's not enough, and she goes to bed hungry for the first time.

The first time she complains about her dresses is when she's seven. She's playing in the mud with the boys, and she declares that skirts are no good for these adventures, and she hoists up her dress and manages to tie it off so they're fashioned like pants. It's a little uncomfortable, but so much better, and Smalls beams as the other kids compliment her new outfit.

Smalls is also seven when she enters her next orphanage.

This one is more monotonous - there's less to do, but more food and more space. Three years of her life go by in routine. She still has to wear dresses and skirts, and each time she puts them on she feels like she's being strangled.

She is nine when she first steals something. A hat - warm and snug on her head, it becomes one of her most prized possessions. Next is a pair of pants, snagged from a clothesline, a little baggy but so much better than the skirt. They feel _right._

Smalls is twelve when she's caught stealing and thrown into the Refuge. She keeps her hat.

The boys eye her with hard eyes, cruelty, mockery. She holds her head high anyways. Kisses a girl for the first time in that cruel place for some food - and despite the circumstances, she likes it.

It takes her three months to get fed up with the place, and she escapes.

Smalls is thirteen when her luck finally runs out.

A fight with a Brooklyn kid leaves her without food and a coat, alone on the streets of Lower Manhattan, shivering and hungry in the cold. She huddles in an alleyway, tries to hide from the chill, but it seeps into her.

She almost gives up until she sees three boys.

Smalls is thirteen when Jack Kelly, Racetrack Higgins, and Crutchie Morris find her shivering, alone in the New York winter, starving and without anything to keep her warm except for the ragged hat she stole so many years ago.

Jack throws his vest over her without a second thought, Racer helps her to her feet, Crutchie offers her some bread, and Smalls - dazed, nervous Smalls - lets the boys take her back to the lodging house. 

She fits right in. Grins when she's grouped with the "fellas", feels a warmth in her chest when Jack shouts "boys" and includes her. She doesn't _feel_ like a boy, doesn't want to be referred to as one, but the masculinity feels right, feels good, and Smalls embraces it. She chops her hair short, tries to speak a little lower, puffs out her chest with pride. Kisses more girls, and it feels right.

Smalls is fourteen when the strike happens.

Katherine says "gentlemen" and "boys" and the warmth spurs her on into joining Racer's little game, sword fighting him with a spoon and laughing the entire time.

Smalls is fourteen when the strike is settled, and she finds who she is.


End file.
